Philosophy and Dumpster Diving
by mpsRocket
Summary: Jessie ponders her success (or lack thereof) over one of her team's less dignified meals. Oneshot.


"Look. What. I. Got!"

James heaved in air between words, catching his breath in ragged gulps. Despite his obvious exhaustion, a huge grin was spread across his face.

With a grunt of effort, he slung the bag he was carrying off from his shoulder and onto the ground in front of him. Judging by the soft thud it made as it hit the concrete, its contents weren't overly heavy.

Meowth smirked. "Dat ain't cash, is it Jim? Cause if you robbed someplace we'd better skedaddle."

"Oh, I wish- but it's nearly as good." James paused for dramatic effect (to Jessie's mild chagrin), then spread the bag open.

To most people, the revelation might have been anti-climactic. It was not pokeballs, nor jewellery, nor _anything_ of real value that filled the linen sack.

It was baked goods.

His team mates stared at the shades of golden brown topped with varying colours of icing. Meowth's jaw fell slack, his eyes wide and hungry; Jessie blinked, and looked up at James for some kind of explanation. When she got none, she prompted him:

"Wha- Did you hold up a bakery?"

"No, no! Nothing that criminal. No- I saw a store clerk tossing them out by the dumpsters. Don't worry, they're clean, they were in a separate bag. They're a little chewy, but-"

They needed no further encouragement. Meowth grabbed a glazed pastry with both paws, stuffing half of it into his mouth at once, while Jessie snatched a donut as if worried it might evade her. She admired it for a moment, studying the swooping lines of white frosting that overlaid the chocolate coating, and then tore into it with her teeth. Globs of jam rolled off her lips and hit the ground like thick crimson raindrops.

Less ravenous than the other two thirds of his team, James sat cross-legged on the pavement and helped himself to a bun.

"Pretty good, huh?" he asked, muffled by the task of chewing the sweet dough.

"Mmm-hmm," Jessie agreed as she reached for seconds. A subtle frown seeped into her expression, and she hesitated a while longer this time before bringing the roll to her lips. The bite she eventually took wasn't quite as enthusiastic as the ones before. She smiled, and muttered, "How the mighty have fallen."

Meowth was too busy gorging himself to hear her, but James caught her statement.

"Huh?"

Jessie shook her head, the smile remaining. "I was just thinking about where we used to be," she said, taking another bite. "You know, not half-starved all the time." She chuckled, but it was without much humour, and the result sounded a little sorrowful. "If you told our past selves that we were destined to wind up sitting in an alley eating donuts out of the garbage... I don't think we would have believed it."

"They're not _out of_ the garbage," James corrected her, "they were _next to_ it. In a separate bag." He sensed that maybe that wasn't quite the suitable response. "Maybe things haven't turned out _entirely_ the way we envisioned- but hey, it's not that bad! We haven't been fired-"

"Yet."

"-and we've had a couple of good heists where the twerp hasn't managed to get involved- and now," he patted the side of the bag with some affection, "we've got donuts."

Jessie snorted, and this time genuine amusement showed on her features. When she posed her next question, her voice was more serene. "Do you ever miss the way things were- after training, I mean?"

James thought about this. "Not really," he replied, looking ahead. "Well... At the time, it was great. I loved the missions, the way people would look at us like we were the biggest threats in the world..." His brow fell with the corners of his lips. "But the stuff we were doing- it was _insane_. Like when we set that gym on fire, or used explosives..." He cringed. "I don't miss being like that."

Her head dipped up and down in a nod before Jessie was aware of it. She knew what he meant. While they would both proudly call themselves villains, they'd toned down the reckless behaviour a little since their early days in Team Rocket.

She ran her thumb back and forth across the side of the donut, sending a delicate snowstorm of powdered sugar floating downwards. It settled in a little white patch on the knee of her boot.

"So it's a fair exchange, is that what you mean?" she asked. "Crippling poverty for a calmer conscience." She hadn't meant to sound sardonic, but as soon as the words left her mouth she heard a mocking edge that had crept into her voice somewhere along the line. James, however, didn't seem to notice- if he did, he showed no indication of it.

"To an extent," he responded. "I certainly don't want to stay like this forever." He smiled, and there was no trace of a charade in the rise of his lips. "We'll find a happy middle, I'm sure, given enough time."

 _Yeah, enough time to see us limping along with canes and grey hair and arthritis._

Jessie didn't have the heart to share this cheerful thought with her partner.

She pondered their situation in silence. On one side of her internal argument, there was little comfort to be found; they had no home, barely enough money to invest in their next doomed scheme, and the respect they'd managed to regain from Giovanni seemed to fade a little each time they spoke with him.

But she was not unhappy.

She thought that she probably _should_ be unhappy, but... Well, she'd never been one to stick by conventions. The fact was that although she still hungered for glory, for so much more than was currently in her grasp, her impatience was not so sizeable as to swamp her better feelings. There was joy, excitement, and- dare she admit it- a great deal of affection for her team.

And that made up for the drawbacks.

"We'll get there all right," she affirmed. Her flame of passion relit as quickly as it had withered, Jessie bunched up her fist, squishing the remains of the donut into a tight ball as she did so. She paid no mind to her victim, exclaiming, "We'll climb the ranks and show Burt and Cassidy what a _real_ team looks like!"

"Mood swing over?" Meowth chimed in. Sugar framed his mouth, the tiny crystals bobbing up and down as he talked. Jessie grinned, and gave him a gentle shove.

"Quiet, you." She sprang up from her position on the ground with newfound motivation. "Okay- what's our next course of action? A heist? A scam? Or shall we take our chances with the twerps?"

James pursed his lips in thought. "You know, the store I got these from probably has a whole lot of other expiring food that's just sitting there..."

"That also sounds good."

* * *

 **AN-** **Hey, look- something that's not full of angst! After writing some of my darker stuff, I felt it was about time to switch things up, so I challenged myself to write a 'happy' story. (I came up with about a dozen harrowing tales of woe before I forced this little plot out of my brain.) I'm not really sure what this is, but eh, maybe I'll write some more of these if new ideas spring up.**

 **Thanks for reading!**


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